


130 Prompts #81 - Trying Too Hard

by FountainPenguin



Series: Purple Train [7]
Category: Fairly OddParents
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Best Friends, Break Up Talk, Business, Childhood Friends, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FountainPenguin/pseuds/FountainPenguin
Summary: Flappy Bob left Camp Learn-A-Torium in Gary’s and Betty’s hands a month ago, but they can’t agree on what to do with it. For some reason, I get the feeling dividing it evenly down the middle isn’t gonna cut it this time…





	130 Prompts #81 - Trying Too Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Prerequisites: "Solo", "Loyalty", and "Opportunity"

  **81\. Trying Too Hard**  (Two weeks after the "Opportunity" Prompt)

_Year of Leaves; Summer of the Last Berry_

* * *

The numbers didn't add up.

And Betty knew her numbers well. Ever since they were kids, she'd been the practical math and science brain to Gary's enthusiastic love for arts and crafts. She'd been helping Mr. Sanderson add up totals since she was still small enough to fit in his lap. Later on, she'd watched over Flappy's shoulder as he worked to pay the same types of bills that had now fallen to her. Math tests were the only ones Crocker had never given her Cs on back in elementary school. She'd painted each and every happy equation on the Learnatorium walls with her own hand. Numbers were her final sanctuary. So the problem here couldn't - and didn't - lie with her.

Phew, this office was stifling. Had been for days, and she and Pete both had the sweatbands around their heads to prove it. They just couldn't afford to run the Learnatorium's air conditioning more than necessary right now. Couldn't afford to plug in fans. How did Flappy ever deal with this place in  _December,_  let alone July? Sweaty skin had started sticking to seat cushions within an hour after sunrise. Gary, strangely, didn't seem to mind the heat at all, and in fact he'd even embraced it with delight. But Betty had given up her happy peppy sweater vest a week ago. In fact, she'd even given up the white shirt she normally wore beneath it. If someone wanted to see her, they could see her in her tank top. Typical? Unusual. Rebellious? Deliciously. No point in letting the opportunity go to waste. Now that Flappy wasn't around to tell her and Gary what to do anymore, they could form their own dress code.

And just before Flappy, Sanderson hadn't even bothered to say good-bye before he'd…

Betty shook her head. She rolled the high-backed chair up to her desk until her knees jarred against wood. A framed photo depicting she and Gary sitting outside their apartment building (perched happily on the edge of Alden Bitterroot's famous well with Mr. Sanderson tall and stiff and expressionless behind them) tipped over with a clatter. She didn't fix it. With her chin balanced in her left hand, elbow braced, Betty rifled through the stack of bills to be paid again. Lights. Water. Air conditioning. Bills, bills, bills.

The math remained just as exact the fourth time around. Betty tightened her teeth. Hmph. Elizabeth Lovell did not make mistakes. Not where numbers were concerned. Should she count again? Something here didn't add up at all, but what could it be? And why did her laptop's firewall keep blocking the site for the insurance company she had written down? Strange company, with a URL full of stars and firework symbols. Memorable, but strange.

Betty tapped her pencil against her teeth, then did straighten the picture of herself and Gary. The two of them wore pink and white even then. Oh… They both looked so young, so innocently devoted to their cause. Odd, really, how much could change in just one year. Flappy was gone. It had been a month since he'd retired and left the cherished Learnatorium in the hands of his three faithful employees (Or more specifically, Gary was smugly likely to insist, in the hands of the  _two_  employees who poured their sweat and blood into this dorky business seven days a week).

And yeah, it wasn't the worst job around. If you were going to make a living, why not make it from a job where you had the opportunity to entertain and educate little kidlets all day long? Kids were adorable, and they loved learning. Oh, did kids ever love learning! Little monsters after her own heart; Betty could hardly wait to have some of her own. Just a few more years. She could hold out a few more years for a loving partner, a steady job, a beautiful house- and of course, children who would never leave her at the end of the day. Children with questions, children she could bring to the dam or the park or the grocery store, children she could hug and dress and keep forever…

Betty blinked and refocused her attention on the task at hand. At least she hadn't lost count. She never lost count.

Those numbers did not add up.

"It's not possible," she mumbled. One finger twirled around a strand of pale hair. Turquoise- she wanted a turquoise streak in it one of these days. Something rebellious. Funny. She was the boss of a dying business and had no one to rebel against (and wasn't in the position to do so if she had), but it just felt so right to rebel against  _something_.

The summer rush of bouncy kids would not last forever. Payments hit hard every autumn, when even the rowdiest of children were happily willing to give school another try. The daycare for babies under the age of five always became their bread and butter then. Yes, this June had been a peak month- a record number even by their standards. But the repair costs for the walls? The refunds to furious parents? The food required to feed all the children in the city for even a small matter of days? The clothes? The dry cleaning? The broken toys and arcade game screens? All those torn books? Her hospital bills?

Why weren't they totally scraping for cash? These numbers  _did not add up._

Her gaze wandered across her desk to the next item on her to-do list. Besides the Learnatorium's immediate future (aka endless bills), the distant future demanded attention too. Hopefully it wasn't quite as distant as it seemed. The Learnatorium needed to be sold, and Doug Dimmadome and Ed Leadly had both made offers the moment Flappy and his parents had rolled out of town. Of course, Crocker had been poking his nose around too, but as far as Betty was concerned, if he couldn't buy the place then he had no business being here.

A tap sounded at the office door. Large, soft, gentle. "Come in," Betty called, glancing up from her papers.

The face that peered through the doorway was white, fluffy, and enormous. It was also the face of a polar bear. He tugged at the blue bow tie around his neck. "Mm. Hey. I, uh, just thought you should know that Leadly called the front desk again."

"Thanks, Pete. Tell him I'm in a meeting right now and he can call back after lunch."

Pete didn't move. Betty only realized this after a minute had passed, and she'd skimmed through another bill. When she looked up again, the polar bear brought one large paw to his mouth and coughed into it. "Eee. I can sure try, but I'm not certain Leadly's going to like that. We've pushed him off every day this week."

She frowned. "Yep, that's right. We sure have.  _Aaand_  Leadly will have to wait a weensy bit longer. I haven't seen Gary this morning, and I can't do anything without his permission. Ooh, yeah- when he wakes up, send him my way. We need to talk."

"He's just down the hall," Pete said, backing out of the office with a nod.

"Pete?" Betty called after him. He reappeared, head to one side. "How are your burns healing up?"

"Um." He looked down at the chest of his polar bear suit. "Some more Aloe would be nice."

"Check my purse. Behind you, on the door hook."

Pete sighed affectionately and did so. After finding what he was after, he waved farewell. "I'll bring it back after lunch. Thanks, Betty. You're the best. Love."

"Love you too."

The door clicked softly shut behind him. Betty sighed and looked down again, her fingers caught in her hair. These numbers were all wrong. Had Flappy made a final donation out of his own pockets before he'd headed into the world? Officially, the Learnatorium paperwork was still in his name, and he had agreed to keep ties to the place until either Gary or Betty finished the schooling and became licensed to own it completely. But on some level, he'd engaged in a new career and effectively left she and Gary to run things as they will. "Quid pro quo" he'd called it. He'd handle the legalities and pay the occasional visit so long as he didn't have to do the heavy lifting. In return, the place was theirs.

It didn't make sense. None of it did.

 _"Oooh,_  I am in  _lo~ove!_  Our love is forbidden, but it bleeds strong indeed! _"_

That was Gary. Somehow. Betty stopped her pen and looked up. "What is he doing out there?" For the first time in months, Gary hadn't come home to the apartment last night. When she'd walked into work today, she'd found him curled up in a ball on the game room couch, perfectly silent with sleep. If "love" was the reason why he'd been out late, it certainly wasn't the reason she'd suspected. Like… ever. Gary wasn't exactly the cooing, romantic type, and if he'd had a date, he definitely would have told her.

 _BAM!_ The door to the office flew open to reveal Gary standing behind it, one leg outstretched in a kick. His arms clutched an overstuffed blue backpack that all but covered the corners of his smirk. "Ahh, Betty, I adore autumn! It's that magical time of year when even I, as much as I hate sugar, can't help but find myself falling head over heels for the candy of my dreams."

Betty's pen dropped from her hand. She didn't pick it up. "Whoa-oh! Someone got his happy peppy back, big time. It's a good look for you. You know I missed it."

He juggled the backpack alongside his grin as though balancing both was child's play and he wanted something else thrown into the mix to keep him on his toes. Y'know. Typical Gary. "You better believe he did! Ooh, Betty- Betty, you'll  _never_  guess what I just so happened to finish last night."

Her eyes moved between his backpack and the door. "Uhh… No, I don't think I'll guess, but I can promise you now, I am already way more excited than I should be."

Her desk and Gary's had been pushed together from Day 1 to create one massive face-to-face superdesk. Gary dropped the backpack on his half. Both hands slapped down beside it. With one foot behind him, he shoved his desk chair into the corner of the office (No wheels- he'd insisted he didn't mind if Flappy's padded office chair went to her). It hit the filing cabinet with a soft  _thump_.

"Oh boy," she said, staring up at him.

"Thaaaaat's right!" Gary grabbed the backpack's bottom corners and whisked them into the air. A mountain of white sugary balls decorated with tiny crater patterns spilled across her papers. "They said it couldn't be done! They said I was insane! But after three years of dedicated study, I have finally managed to recreate the recipe for the extremely rare, limited-edition fairy funeral candy. AKA, moon cores! Your faaaaaaavorite!"

He wiggled his fingers on "favorite." Betty watched the sugar balls bounce in all directions, including on the floor. There had to be two hundred of them in that bag. Not counting the ones that broke apart on impact. She shook her head in disbelief once, then twice, but she laughed the whole time. "Oh wow, you've certainly been busy. This is nuts! No wonder you kept begging me to stay out of the kitchen this week."

"Aren't they beautiful?" Gary gushed. He jerked open one drawer of his desk and fumbled around inside. "And that's not all. I've been up for two nights straight rehearsing for a thing. So yesterday, I finally decided to splurge and get something I've always wanted. Feast your eyes!" Before Betty could reply, he fanned out three paper DVD envelopes with the title  _Aladdin_  scrawled across the flaps in three different colors. "Ta-duh! I know, right? I bought them all. I've never seen the second two movies before. Now I can give the children we watch over all the privileges and representation I never had at their age." The DVDs fell to the desk. Gary dabbed a tear from one eye with the hem of his sweater vest. "I'm so happy. We could watch them right now. Ooh, do you want to watch them now, or when we get home? If you're busy today, I can wait a little longer."

"Are you silly? Duh, I wanna watch! You set it up, and I'll get Pete to help me round up any kids who haven't fallen asleep yet." Betty was on her feet a flash later, one arm raised to sweep all the papers off her desk and into the bin on the floor; what fun, what fun…

… but she stopped. Oh. Oh. Her legs collapsed like a folded accordion, dragging her back down to her chair. Betty plopped her cheeks into her hands.

"Uh. I can't. I mean, I shouldn't… I just can't. Not today. Not for a while. Sorry."

"Soon, though. Tell me when." Gary tossed one of the sugar balls into the air and caught it in his mouth. The thing was the size of a ping-pong ball, and he probably almost choked to death on it. Not exactly safe, not exactly healthy, but hey- He was happy, right? She couldn't just smash his excitement now. Let him have his fun. Even sugar was okay in moderation. Sanderson hadn't taught her that, and neither had Flappy, but you learned to pick up these things on your own.

Gary held a second moon core up to her lips. Betty did not take it. Still crunching through his own, Gary gave the sugar ball in his hand a coaxing shake. Betty leaned her head away. Placing her pen against his wrist, she pushed his hand down. "No thanks. I gave up sugar when I was nine. Remember?"

"What?" Gary's smile fell a thousand yards. His fingers clenched three moon cores in his palm. White crumbs sprinkled the files on her desk. "But… they're moon cores. Only handed out at funerals. You love these."

"Thanks, Gary. I really appreciate it. I'll save a few for later, but I have a dentist appointment in two weeks, and Dr. Bender will never let me hear the end of it if I get a cavity. Hey, aren't you broiling in that sweater? I mean, we can turn the air conditioning back on if we really need to. I don't want you to overheat."

"Ahaha!" Gary flapped one of his hands at her and glanced over at the window. "You know me. Stuff me in an oven like this place, and I'm on fire… At getting things done, that is. Ooh, and I reserved tickets for the kids' pageant down at the theater next weekend! It's gonna be _tight!"_

 _Please never try to use that word like that again._  And also,  _Crap._

"Um." Betty bit her lip. "That sounds awesome, Gary, but Pete and I just started trying to make plans yesterday. We were really hoping to visit his family. In Nevada."

"Ah." Gary nodded, and shrugged the evident disappointment off like a fish. "Well, that'll be fun too! I've been dying to meet this famous Granny Ma of his. From the sound of it, she can whip a mean stitch in a piece of cotton."

She sighed, but it was a sigh of amusement. Typical Gary, clueless and bumbling sweetheart that he was. "Whoa there, cool your jets, bucko. See, here's the skivvy. Pete and I were thinking we might go just the two of us, for just two nights. You know, for meet-the-family-of-the-guy-you've-been-dating reasons? But I promise, you and I can video chat before bed so we can catch each other up like we always do."

He  _tsk tsk_ ed and crossed his arms. "That's fair. In that case, I volunteer to stay behind from this trip. Aww, but you two are so goshdarn  _cute_ , and I shall miss you a lot. And so, I shall embark on a quest to find someone else to give these tickets too. Someone worthy enough to deserve such a gift. Maybe Talon."

Talon was one of Gary's…  _other_  friends. Betty didn't know much about him since he ran with a different crowd, like his name might suggest, but she knew that Talon had the only motorcycle in town capable of putting Gary's to shame, and sometimes when she and Pete had date nights, Gary would call the guy up and ask if he could drop by so they could tinker around together. Funny, how even after a long day of rushing about Camp Learnatorium, he just never grew exhausted with arts and crafts.

He tipped his head, green eyes all a-sparkle. "Have fun, though. Jealous! Send me tons of pics, and try to score some great new recipes while you're there. I'm sure the food will be top crown."

"Yeah, for sure! I'll take some good ones. Although I doubt I'll find any desserts unique enough to appease your desires, O baking master." She glanced at the moon cores for emphasis. Gary chuckled and gave his hand a modest flick.

"Aw, I'm not really as well-read as you think I am. You're bound to turn up something I don't know about. But thanks!"

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course." Betty slid her pen along her desk. "It's nice to see you this morning. You know, I was really worried when you didn't come home."

"Really worried, huh?"

His words were completely innocent, his face as gentle and friendly as it always was, but Betty winced at the thought that stung her heart most:  _Oh, boy. How can I actually look him in the eyes and tell him I was worried, when I didn't even come back to look for him?_ She'd had excuses. She couldn't remember what they were.

"Well, yeah. I wish those kids hadn't broken your phone. I wanted to call you. Are you okay? You look like you didn't get a wink of sleep." Despite his high energy level, Gary's eyes were sunken and lightly underscored with gray bags. She stiffened. "Oh crap, did you accidentally join another bike gang?"

"Oh, no. Ugh." First, Gary lifted away his graduation cap (He'd even slept in that thing). Then he pushed his cropped hair back with one hand. The cap fell into place again. "No, you're right. I really didn't. Didn't get very good rest, I mean. I was here  _all night_ rehearsing. Finally called it quits at five in the morning and slept in the game room. A three-year-old hit me with a maraca as a wake-up call. What time is it?"

She checked the plastic watch she'd won from a box of cereal as a kid and never parted with. "Almost noon."

Gary's arms seized, his fingers splaying. "Shoot! I was supposed to sanitize the ball pit during Singing Time. Wouldn't want anyone getting pink eye on us!"

"Relax." Betty smiled and gestured for him to sit down (if he chose to retrieve his seat from where he'd kicked it, that is). "It's Saturday. Since Pete was here, I asked him to do it for you."

"Well, how about that?" Gary murmured, twisting halfway around to follow her waving hand.

"He's sweet. What were you rehearsing?"

"Ah…" Gary fully turned his back. Shoulders high. Mechanically, he brought his chair over to his desk. "You know. Just one of my new songs. 'World of Pink.'" He shrugged. "'Demo Version.' For now. It's not easy. You know I'm not as good at rhymes or dancing as you are."

"Do I know that one?"

"Probably not. It's new. It starts like this." He cleared his throat.  _"_ _I was raised in a world where gray mixed with pink / by a man so unfeeling he taught me to think._  And towards the end it kinda goes into,  _I'm happy, I'm hopeful, I'm thankful, I'm patient; I'm cheerful, forgiving, accepting, and laughing, in my world of pink, not gray…"_ He shrugged. "Buuut, I'm still working on it. Something's not fitting right with the flow in the middle, but I'm getting it. I wanted a line in there like,  _Will they believe_ _I'm not into you?_  but I'm not sure if it'll make the final cut."

"'World of Pink'…" Betty nodded. "I like it. Well, it sounds like you're making progress. Don't worry if it isn't perfect. You can always reprise it later."

"I'll keep that in mind. Ooh, and also? Just this one last thing? Okay, I know it's super early to be planning, but I went ahead and booked us time in our schedule to visit that new farm across the hills right before Halloween, just you and me. I made sure it had a petting zoo, a corn maze, and  _everything_. Even a mountain of old grain kernels! Just no haunted houses. Flappy said he'd work everything out with Pete, so it's cool." With a hum, he sat down and then peered at what she was working on. "So, what have you been up to this week?"

Betty glanced down at her ink-stained fingers. Self-consciously, she adjusted a strap on her tank top. "Bills. Paperwork. This whole shindig is illegal, you know."

"Huh?" Gary jerked up his head. "What? I'm not planning anything illegal. Why would you say that?"

She set the end of her pen on a stack of papers she'd been studying and pushed them over the pixel-thin gap that divided her desk from his. Moon cores rolled and bumped against each other. Gary sat down, his shoulders awkwardly stiff. "Having just three of us to manage all these kids," she explained. "That's not legal even in this backwards city. Our caretaker-to-child ratio is sort of frowned on. Losing Flappy certainly didn't help; he was a natural at entertaining groups. We need to hire more employees if we don't want to get shut down this year, but I just don't see how this crummy place can make ends meet for much longer."

"Things have a strange way of working out," Gary insisted. He scratched his ear. "I'm sure it'll all be fine. We'll have enough money for everything we need, trust me."

Betty studied him between glances at the stack of bills (or what she could see of them beneath the candy balls and sugar heaps on her desk, anyway). She knew that scratch. He was trying too hard to avoid contact with her eyes. "Hmm… You wouldn't have anything to do with these numbers not adding up as expected, would you?"

"Me?" His scratching picked up.  _Scritch scritch scritch scritch scritch._  "Haha! Ah, well, since you asked me so directly, I  _miiight_ have slipped a little something extra into our bank account, Lizzie. A few more dollars a day keeps the legal department away, hey? Wouldn't you say?"

"Gary, we've been over this." Ignoring the squeaky baby-talk voice that always flared up more when he was nervous, Betty braced her steepled fingers against her forehead. "You can't dip into your personal college funds to keep fishing this drain out of the gutter. One day, we're both going to grow up and move on. How are you going to live?"

He shook his head. When he started to lean back, his chair squeaked. It was a long squeak, like the kind you might expect to hear right before your furniture snaps and you get dumped on the ground. Gary stopped pushing against it. "I don't see the Learnatorium as a drain, Betty. I see it as my second home. It's something worth saving."

"It's a drain," she told him flatly. She pushed a strand of hair from her eyes (Turquoise- it so badly needed turquoise).

Betty sighed.

"Gary, can we talk seriously? I mean, about money? I think we're trying too hard to keep afloat a business that isn't going to pay us back for it. This place isn't going to bring in a ton of dough this fall. A lot of parents are really upset about the way their kids were treated this summer. Not that it was our fault or anything. I don't mean to pin blame, but…"

"Betty," he whined, a smile curving across his lips. "Hold onto it for me? We'll figure out how to make this place profitable if we work together. We've had so many good times here for years, and we've always made it through the ups and downs before."

"Well, maybe, but…" For a moment, Betty stared at the bills. Too many bills. Bills that could swallow, bills that could kill. Bills that could yank everything away from her in a snap if she didn't make them  _perfect._  She rubbed her arm. "We've always had Flappy's help before."

"And he taught us well, don't you think so? Parents and guardians always dream of their dependents taking over after them, using all the knowledge they've been taught."

Betty shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, we're basically just teenagers. We can't do this. Flappy couldn't expect us to. With all the angry parents, next year doesn't promise to be a lucrative one anyway. I really think we should sell now before we go under, and then move on with our lives, like Flappy did."

"Give us a chance, Betty. We can do it. You know, I believe in our ability to push through our trials."

"Mr. Leadly's made it abundantly clear that he's interested in buying. So has Dimmadome, but I don't know how much longer either of them will wait for us." Betty picked up an unopened envelope, then set it down again. "If they sense we're desperate, they'll force us to sell this place at lower than it's worth. This is our peak moment. I'm telling you, this summer ruined us. We're going under next year, tops."

Gary took a handful of dry erase markers from the wire cup on his side of the superdesk. He started connecting them into a staff. "Ooh, yeeeaaah, but I'd feel so  _gross_  if we just sold it. It's only been a month. Flappy trusted us. We should hold onto his pride and joy for at  _least_  a year without him. We should at least try. You know what?" He reached for another marker, then jerked up his head. "Hey, I know! I've got an idea. If you're tired of this place just being a daycare, why don't we turn the Learnatorium into a full-on community center?"

What?

Oh no. Ohhh no. Gary had that absent gleam in his eye, the thoughtful flutter in his fingers, that adorably goofy one-sided quirk to the smile on his lips. Before Betty knew it, her nails were drumming on the table.

"Hmm. A community center. You mean, for hosting kids' parties? And local after-school clubs and hobby groups? And maybe a dance floor, or a banquet hall with a stage on one end?"

"Now you're getting it! We could finally get the bingo hall out of the elementary school. Ooh, and we'll keep food storage, quilts, inflatable rafts, and hundreds of cupcake liners in the basement in case of emergencies. I mean" - Gary clipped the last marker into place with a smile - "You never know when a giant lizard might eat a few office buildings or accidentally step on a couple dozen homes. We could be heroes, rushing to the rescue whenever disaster strikes! We have all this power in our hands. Wouldn't it be wonderful to do something with this place that could really help the town?"

Betty's hand moved from her forehead to her ear. She tucked her hair away. With a sigh, she picked up her pen again and tapped out the tune of an old forgotten song against the edge of her desk.  _Tuuuuun… tun tun tun tun TUN tun._  "It sounds wonderful, but it could never work."

"You really think so?" Gary leaned back in his chair again, stretching his tower of markers towards the ceiling tiles. It arched like a blade of plastic grass. He pinched his tongue between his lips, fighting to keep his arm steady. "Why not?"

"Because you're still eighteen, and I'm only two and a half months older. We can't do this. Not by ourselves. It's too hard. It just couldn't work." Betty shook her head. "No, the community center idea's out. We need to go about this logically. So. Who do we want to sell to? Dimmadome, or Leadly? And how soon can we get this done? Flappy insisted on leaving the Learnatorium to both of us, so we're both going to have to agree on this."

"We could set up indoor displays of insect wings and animal tracks that we pair with an outdoor summer camp program six weeks a year," he wheedled. "And an art room with a row of easels, and a kiln for pottery classes too. A safe place for children to hang out after school and finish their homework if their parents aren't home and bullies are guarding the streets…"

Oh, drat. Drat, drat, drat. Her nails drummed again, and she fought against the nervous quickening of her breath. Now wasn't the time for over-analyzing, and she wished the rest of her brain would shut up and figure that out already. "Mm. I mean, it  _does_  sound like it would be wonderful. Dimmsdale doesn't have anything like it. Ironically, the Learnatorium is the closest thing this town's ever had to a community center to begin with."

"A swimming pool, a rock climbing wall, racquetball courts," he listed on one hand, still reaching for the ceiling tiles. Even his eyebrows were smirking. Betty rolled her eyes.

"You know what's frustrating, Gary? You're absolutely impossible to reason with. I don't know why I even try. I'm serious- I don't think I've made you change your mind about anything,  _ever_ , in your  _life_. I don't know why I keep letting you talk me into these things. Half the time I regret it, and I spend the other half terrified that I will soon enough."

Gary chuckled. He lowered the marker stack and broke it in half. "See, you love me."

She ignored the comment and smoothed out a dog-eared corner of one bill. Steady, though her fingers shook. She spent too many seconds weeding her actual desirable thoughts from the anxious swirl inside her brain, then said, "Okay, well. We'll figure out what to do with the Learnatorium after lunch. I need to think things through. Don't let this 'taking money from your college fund' thing happen again." When Gary opened his mouth to protest (Probably another of his terrifying speeches about how he would be totally happy to drop all his online classes and throw himself fully into the daycare business for good), Betty pointed to the papers she'd given him. "But none of this solves our current problem with the student-to-teacher ratio. Flappy's gone, and we need to hire more employees super fast. What we're doing isn't legal, and if Leadly or Dimmadome hear about it, they'll try to squeeze us out." She picked up a short stack of papers. "Did Pete ever hear back from that girl at the gas station? She was wavering."

 _"_ Wouldn't he have come straight to you if he had, and not bother telling me?"

Betty stopped rifling through the bills. Oh no. What-? Oh no. Did he just-? Oh no. She looked up. Gary instantly dropped his gaze to his lap, clutching three markers in each hand. Oh no.

"He hasn't told me," he finished, lamely.

The bills fluttered back to the desk. Betty leaned forward. "Wait. Uh… Is there something going on I should know about? Have you two been fighting? Did Pete accidentally hurt your feelings? Or more importantly, your limbs? If he did, I'm sure he didn't mean to. I can bring it up with him."

"No, no!" Gary lifted both hands to his chest, palms facing out. Markers spilled into his lap. "I like Pete just fine! Sure, he's absopositilutely huge, but he's such a gentle, cuddly guy, heh heh. An asset to our team, don't you think so?"

Betty hesitated. She already knew the answer, but asked the question anyway. Her fingers crawled across the desk towards several of the moon cores. She could - should - drop a few of them in the dusty bowl of peppermints and foil kisses she'd inherited from Flappy. At least then Gary would see she appreciated his hard work, even if she didn't want all that straight sugar rotting her teeth. Her hand closed around one sugar ball. "No, seriously. Is there a problem I should know about? What do you have against Pete?"

"Not a restraining order," he said cheerfully, and even threw in a wink to assure her he was just joking around. She hoped he was just joking around.

"Pfft." She was smiling before she could stop herself. "You're a goof. Be nice to Pete. He may only work part-time, but he's still one of our crew. Hey, it's almost noon. Did you take your meds this morning?"

Gary opened his mouth, then closed it again. He blinked. "Uh-oh. I never picked up a new bottle."

"Check my purse. Behind you, on the door hook."

"Aw, thanks, Betty. You've always got my back. It's for reasons like this that we make such an amazing team." Gary clicked his marker staff back together and used it to hook her purse beneath the strap. The markers broke again beneath the weight of it. Unsurprising. Gary got up and checked her purse by hand. Then, spinning the canister of Vitamin D-deficiency pills between his fingers, he tilted back his head. "Of course, I need to take these with food…"

Betty reached for the one-a-day calendar on his desk and swiveled it around. "I think it's my turn to grab lunch. I'll go as soon as I finish with this section I'm doing."

"No need!" Gary flipped the pill bottle to his other hand and dropped it in his pocket. He sat the corner of his desk, one leg dangling. "You pay bills, and I'll head out. Walking is both good fun and healthy exercise, and the weather's so nice out. What do you feel like today?"

"Besides super duper?"

He laughed. "To eat, Betty."

Betty leaned back in her chair, tapping her nails again. "Hmm. That Extreme Veggiedanger place was good last week. I want to try their potato cubes, with an accessory fruit platter on the side."

"Oh, yes! Now, they knew how to blend a smoothie." Gary sprang up again. "And they do have the finest carrot cake in town. That is, if you're up for a little something sweet for dessert. Not that I'm not abso _lute_ ly positive you're sweet enough already. Ahahaha…" His palm went to his cheek. He looked her up and down, pursing his lips. His shoulders lifted, then sagged again. Yet, the goofy smile she'd long known to trust stayed latched in place. "Ah… Did Pete want me to pick up anything for him?"

He fizzed with the same boundless energy he'd held last spring, before every adult who'd ever looked out for them had dumped them in the road and everything changed. As though that didn't even hurt him, that he wasn't stinging and desperate and trying too hard to secure his future all on his own. The way she was. He wasn't like her at all. Gary beamed at her as she gazed back at him, until his smile slowly started to fade.

"Betty? Is something wrong?"

She adjusted the brass plaque on her desk that spelled out her name. Her maiden name. As far as she knew, anyway. Her only tie to it was the fact that Sanderson had told her it was hers. She couldn't even remember the parents that paired with it. Without looking up again, she asked, "Did you already ask Pete where he wanted to go for lunch, or did you come straight to me so you could avoid having to coexist in the same room as him?"

Gary's silence lasted a beat too long. He said, "I was already in here, so I just thought I'd ask…"

"You know, he does work with us. You can't try to ignore him forever."

"True, true!" He thrust a finger in the air, his face a mask of seriousness. "All you say is very true, Elizabeth. Nor can I take the guy seriously when he refuses to take off the polar bear mask to have a decent conversation. It's one thing to entertain the kids with it. To still wear it during naptime on a slow summer Saturday is just plain creepy. I don't think I've seen his real face for a year, at least."

Betty tried to maintain a straight expression, but it was difficult not to let just a little smile slip when her normally-grinning friend looked so alert and urgent. "Oh, Gary. You have to be patient with him. He'll take off the mask when he's ready."

Gary grabbed the edges of his desk. One knee went into his chair. He leaned so far forward, the tassel on his cap swung forward to bump his nose. "He wore the polar bear suit to his  _job interview_ , Betty! In last year's summer heat, and even  _I_ broke a sweat then! It's not natural."

With a smirk, she leaned her chin on her hand. "Right now, he needs encouragement. You can be supportive of him a little longer, can't you?"

"He could have been a brown bear," Gary spluttered, throwing his hands in the air. He turned his back. "A black bear! A panda! But no. He applied for this job in a polar bear suit, in June. And he got it, too! What level of self-confidence?"

"Heh heh." Betty ducked her mouth behind her fingers. "What can I say? Flappy thought he had personality."

"A sun bear! A koala!"

"Caaareful now, manticore. The way you talk almost sounds like you're jealous."

Gary paused, glancing back in her direction. Betty raised both her eyebrows, smile fading. She and Gary didn't lie to each other. They were closer than that. Right? I mean, sure, she kind of  _had_  been talking about plans with Pete over several lunch breaks that she  _hadn't_  gotten around to telling Gary about yet, but that wasn't  _technically_  lying. That was just… waiting for the right moment to bring it up. Really, she and Gary didn't lie to each other about anything, even to spare one another's feelings. Sanderson had raised them that way. They were both completely open communicators, and always had been. Locking feelings inside only led to betrayal and heartache.

He opened his mouth, but just then, there came another knock on the door. Soft, again, as though offered up by a stuffed bear paw. Betty sighed. "I'm sorry, Gary. Is it okay if you hold that thought for a second? Come in!"

It was Pete again, this time with a small girl in one arm who held a bubble wand near her mouth. He hesitated when he saw Gary standing by the desk, as if he wasn't sure whom he was supposed to be addressing. He focused on Betty in the end. "Mm. Sorry to interrupt. I thought you would want to know that Leadly has been trying to reach you all morning."

"I'm in a meeting. Just tell him-"

"-that he can call back after lunch," Gary curtly finished.

Pete glanced between them both. Gary continued staring at him, and Betty nodded. "Right. What Gary said. Thanks."

Pete apologized once more and left again. Together, Betty and Gary listened for the soft pat of his bear paw footsteps down the hall. Then Gary turned his head. "Hey. I have a question."

Betty tasted her anxiety shoot from one to eleven. Years ago, Gary had sensed how nervous the words "Hey, can we talk?" made her feel. He'd changed the way he said it, but now that she'd learned what to expect anyway, it wasn't much better.

"Go ahead," she said. She didn't squeak. Her fingernails curled in. Turquoise nails, like she wanted that stripe through her hair. The color was obnoxious and didn't quite go with any of her clothes, and maybe that's why it was her favorite.

Gary scooped up his backpack, the blue fabric familiar and painful and worn and tearing. When he dropped into his chair, he set the pack in his lap. He hugged it. It crushed against his chest. "You know, I really don't care if you don't like me the way you like Pete. I don't like you that way at all. You're my best friend, and I love that about us."

Betty didn't move.

"Really," he said, reaching for her eyes with his. She heard him push his shoes off his feet. They dropped to the floor. Gary drew his legs onto his chair, folding them so his heels touched in the middle. His socks were always full of holes, blackened in patches as though they'd been scorched. "So, whatever happens now that we're growing up, think about what you really want. Don't worry about hurting my feelings. We're both adults now. I'm happy just knowing you're happy too. Okay? Wherever life takes you, whatever you decide, I want you to follow your heart."

"That's… sweet of you to say."

His eyelids clenched. "But I also need to get something off my chest."

"And you don't mean the bow tie?" she guessed, dropping her gaze to her lap. She pressed her feet together.

"I- I'm just not sure dating a guy who aims to get stuck in a dead-end job of wearing a giant bear costume three days a week is the best financial choice for you," he said, quietly. "If this is what you want, I just need you to be sure you're happy with what you're doing. I'll support you, I promise, Betty. As long as you're  _positive_  you want this. I… just wanted to say that. You can count on me. Just, be sure."

Betty stared at the swirls and knots in the wood of her desk until they burned into her brain. "Are you trying to tell me something between the lines?"

He tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Yes? No? If her legs crossed any tighter, she'd turn into a pretzel. Her breath sucked in and out as though she were gasping through a straw. "Um. Before Sanderson suddenly up and went east… How much money did he leave on your debit card?"

Gary's eyes flickered down. Only for a second. Then they swept back up. He clutched the backpack tighter. "Well, I have more than enough to get me through college, and do anything with the Learnatorium we like. We can keep the place for several more years. A decade, if we want to. There's enough."

Betty gripped the hem of her shirt.  _Are you serious?_ Was he even being honest? I mean, he had to be, because he was  _Gary_ , but- Well- Enough for school AND total renovations? For a daycare center of this magnitude, no less? Wow. Sanderson had certainly spared no expense.

… Why for him, and not for her?

No. She knew why. Gary had always been Sanderson's favorite. Sanderson's favorite, Sanderson's dad's favorite, uncle's, aunt's, and all his brothers' favorites. If a stranger ever bumped into them in the grocery store, chirpy Gary was their go-to for directions or an extra pair of hands to load things in the car. If the two of them were ever in the newspaper for saving kittens or volunteering at the detention center, Gary was always Dimmsdale's little favorite. Even the goat nuzzled up to him and only shied away from her, as though he radiated physical warmth as well as emotional. Yep. Sweet… sensitive… perfectly darn Perfect McCheery-Perfectson because it came so naturally to him…!

"Betty, don't!"

She hadn't realized her thumbnail was embedded in her arm. She'd raked white lines through her skin, pale against the old pink ones from yesterday. Gary was on his feet, his hand halfway to her shoulder. Betty blinked. Right. Right. Nervous skin-picking habit, one she'd tried to shake off years ago. She forced her hands away, back to her desk. Her knees tightened against her chair. "W-when was the last time you talked to Sanderson?"

He blinked, his eyes still stretched wide. "Not for weeks. But I mean, I've been meaning to, if you'd maybe want to video call…?"

"Oh gosh." She couldn't take her eyes off her hands. "This is all my fault, isn't it? I've been spending too much time with Pete. You're getting jealous, and it's causing problems in the workplace. I never should have started-"

"No." Gary grabbed her hand and slammed it (softly) against her desk. His palm was sweaty, and Betty had the weirdest image pop into her head of him testing the temperature of baby formulas against his wrist. Like this was any normal day. Like they'd done this daycare thing forever, and as if he expected to do it for fifty years more. His fingers tightened. "Betty, you  _like_  Pete like that, and not me. I get it. I totally understand what that means, and I am fully supportive. Don't you dare break up with him just because you also happen to be best friends with me."

"But-"

_But I'm hurting you. But I'm about to hurt you more. But you're feeling so ignored. Like you're not good enough for me. Like I don't want you. Like there isn't anyone there who understands. That's not what I meant. That's not what I meant at all. Please don't hate me. I just… I don't… We can't and could never… I only wanted to…_

"You're so important to me," he whispered. He lowered his head. His tassel slid forward again. "Please don't break up with him because you think I'm jealous. I just want you to be happy. Even if you are dating a polar bear."

 _"Snrk_. He's not a real polar bear. You do know that, right?" Betty forced her super serious face back into position. She inhaled, and exhaled again through her mouth. "And, I mean, of course we always knew you and I were never going to be a thing. Just so we're clear. I hope I never led you on."

Gary rolled his eyes. "Oh, I didn't mind it. After all, I'm a follower, not a leader! Hey, I'm kidding," he added hastily when he saw her blink. He chuckled. "Okay, but you have to admit, we'd be adorable together."

"Oh, shut up. We already are adorable together, you goofball."

He leaned across the desks, lacing his fingers with hers. His eyebrows wiggled. "Oooh! Those are flirting words, Lizzie."

The 'f' word instantly snapped her back to attention. His hand. Her hand. Wrong hand. Betty dropped it. "Uh, hang on. Gary, we're business partners. Even if Pete and I weren't a thing, I could never date you. We have different emotional needs. And you can't do…  _this_  anymore."

He sat up. "What? I'm sorry? I was just teasing. You didn't use to mind my teasing this much. I thought we both knew it wasn't going anywhere. What changed?"

His eyes darted off even as he spoke. Betty couldn't look at her hands. Not when they were twitching this way. She let them clench. "Hey. Hey, this all needs to stop. I-it's not fair to you, it's not fair to Pete, and it's not fair to me. Oh, geez." She pushed back her hair again, clamping her pigtails into more of a ponytail. Come to think of it, maybe it was time she changed to a ponytail for good. She already had her heart set on changing everything else, so why not her hair style? Or better yet, why not shave it all into a pixie cut? A pixie cut sounded like something she might like. Maybe something from a dream. Maybe one day. But for now, Betty closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. In. Out. In. Let it all out again. "Actually… This is probably a good time to talk to you about the new ground rules."

"Of course!" Gary sat down again and scooted his chair closer to his desk. "I love rules, and you know me. I'm always all ears. Except when it comes to eavesdropping, because that would be rude."

She didn't want to do this.

She did  _not_ want to do this. She was the math brain. The planner. The thinker. Not this… goopy, feely person Gary always seemed to think she was.

True, she could get by all right when it came to comforting hurt kids, and Gary was just a bigger sort of kid. Easy enough. But he was by far the more sensitive one between the two of them. And while she knew him well enough to predict how he would react to the news, it still shook her core to have to hurt him like this.

Betty folded her arms, leaning her elbows against her desk. Her feet switched positions against her ankles. "Gary, you and I have been living together for a long time now."

"Since we were eight," he added helpfully.

"And… Lately, I've been doing a lot of thinking about that. You know. Living together when we aren't dating."

He shot her a curious look, then swung his backpack to the floor. His fingers crawled across his desk towards a dented moon core. "I totally follow."

No he didn't. Gary didn't always…  _get_  things like this. Betty drew in her breath. Her legs crushed the seat of her chair. She dropped her hands to her lap, clasping them between her knees. "And I think that since we're not dating, and we're getting older, you and I need to have some space."

Gary gasped. One hand went to his lips, candy forgotten. "But… You don't mean what I think you mean."

Betty closed her eyes. "I do, Gary."

"Do you? My word!" He braced his weight on his elbows. "After all these years, are we  _finally_  moving out of our stinky apartment and getting a real home of our own?"

"Gary."

"What?"

Her eyelids tightened. "No. Not like that."

"What…" Gary's voice grew a little softer. "What do you mean?"

Her hands came together before her nose. Eyes shut. Fingers threaded into one sheet. "Well. See, Pete and I… have gotten serious about our relationship. Lately we've been looking into getting our own apartment."

His mouth opened. Then shut. His eyebrows shot up, blending with the rest of his ginger hair. After ten seconds of silence, he said, "Oh. I didn't know that."

"Listen." Betty softened her voice. "Gary, I really, really think it's best if we sell the Learnatorium now. This is the last good chance we'll have. But I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. If you want to keep it so badly - turn it into a community center or whatever - I'm willing to sign all my share over to you. Then with your blessing, I guess we'd call it… I'd really like to pack up and move in with Pete as absolutely soon as possible."

 _I'm sorry_. Unsaid. Unsure. Unknown. The clock ticked. One second. At a time. Gary blinked. Four seconds.

Like a flamingo, he folded his arms in slow, gentle motion and leaned back in his seat. "Well, uh… Okay. I mean, if that's what you really want. Pete's a nice guy. I trust he'll take care of you. For however long you stay with him. Um. You'll be okay without me close by?"

Her shoulders eased, but not by much. "I'll be all right. My panic attacks aren't as bad as they used to be. Really, I'm happier now than I've felt in years! And…" Betty tilted back her head. "I'm just really looking forward to getting out of this town. I have a lot of bad memories here."

When she looked down again, she found Gary watching her with a strangled look plastered all over his face. He tilted back his head. "Oh? Do tell."

"Not about you," she assured him, smiling slightly at the thought. Poor, silly Gary. How could he ever think he hadn't been everything she'd needed to lean on when she was younger, when her parents had been stolen away? "Just, y'know… bad memories of  _here_. Like when Mr. Sanderson took us on that roller coaster with his friends. Or all those times he just left us in our apartment alone to entertain ourselves. Or when that dog broke in and chased us to the kiddie room. Oh geez, I was totally convinced it would eat all those poor babies! That day  _still_  gives me nightmares. We'd have totally gotten fired. Or the memories of how those crazy ten- to twelve-year-olds tied us up last month."

He was staring at her, completely tense and forward. His breathing had turned audible. Betty faltered.

"Um… Gary, Sanderson's gone, Flappy's gone, I've been having trouble in school since the beginning… Except for you and Pete, I just don't feel well-liked here in Dimmsdale. I want to move out and start over. Make new memories. Pete and I have been looking into Brightburg. Real estate is cheap now after the earthquake. Don't worry. We'll stay safe."

Gary was on his feet now. His eyes were saucers, knuckles white against the edge of his desk. Betty stared up at him, bracing herself for tears and choked-up words. But instead of screaming, he chewed his cheek and nodded. "O-of course. That makes total sense. I understand, and I'll be sure to respect your boundaries.

And thank goodness for that. Betty told him so, then clicked the tip back into her pen. "You know, we need to get you a girlfriend."

At that, Gary stuck out his tongue. "Sprinkled muffins, Betty- Not you too. Flappy's been on my case for years. It's not that simple, y'know? I can't afford to have a girlfriend."

"Because you're waiting for me to dump Pete and become available?"

"Not necessarily." He raised his eyebrows, sitting down again.  _"But,_  if the two of you do spend money on this apartment of yours and ever part ways because you aren't legally and fully committed with a pair of wedding rings, which I'm just saying could totally happen, you're always welcome to come back and stay with me. I promise; no questions asked. You can keep your key, and I'll make sure your room always stays clean and ready for you. It's just a safety precaution."

"Thanks, Gary," she said, although it was pointless. Pete was too meticulous of a planner to let her go after the two of them had worked so hard to piece together their life plans. They'd picked a temporary apartment, and planned out their design for a small dream home in the distant future. They had the general location in mind, a few schools lined up for the kids, and the job opportunities were promising. The only thing they had left to pin down was the wedding date, assuming the two of them ever decided to make that commitment at all. Which was another thing she'd been meaning to mention to Gary for some time. She crossed her ankles the other way again. "I'm happy now. I really am, for the first time in months. I really do appreciate you looking out for me."

"Of course. I'd do anything for you."

And he meant it, or he thought he did. Betty placed her chin on her hand, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. She wrapped her other hand around her knee. "In that case, I have a favor to ask. We're best friends, and that's  _really_  great _,_  but I don't want you to spend your entire life fawning over me. You've got to get out there. Meet other girls."

"I've met other girls," he protested, a thin whine creeping into his tone. Betty resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely. Silly boy.

"Other girls who are not five years old. Seriously, who are you even into? You know what's weird? This." Betty lifted her hands, holding them a foot apart with palms facing. She swung them down like twin hammers. "I know your gymnastics team has won state three times in the three years you've been with them, I know you're claustrophobic, I know you own a motorcycle, and I know you love cherry-flavored everything, but I don't know  _anything_  about the type of person you're attracted to. In all our years, has this never come up in conversation? How have we seriously never even discussed this?"

"Because despite the fact that I have a wonderful working teenage brain, girls have yet to interest me and I'm starting to seriously suspect my hormones won't kick in until I'm two hundred years old?"

"What?"

"Nothing," he said in the same breath.

Betty blinked, then shook her head. She pushed back her hair. "Hey, you're my best friend. Remember?" She smiled until his gaze flicked away. "Even though I'm hoping to move out, you'll always be my best friend. I just want you to be happy too."

Gary pulled one knee against his chest. "But I don't need to bring another girl into my life right now. I'm not ready for dinners alone with a girl in a fancy restaurant, especially if I have to be out after sunset. I technically don't even own a suit. I'm not ready for a lasting romantic relationship. I just want to hang out with you. And…" His fingers spread apart the  _Aladdin_  DVDs on his desk. "You know. Watch movies while we cook breakfast in our pajamas. Eat soy cubes. Go to the gym together. Draw around Alden's wishing well with sidewalk chalk on Saturday evenings when it's warm outside. Dress up like witches for Founder's Day. Corn mazes. Petting zoos. Dancing around while we sing into hairbrushes, you know? I'm…" The word was a struggle. "I'm super-duper glad that you'll be happy moving away with Pete - Don't think I'm not excited for you or that I don't support you in every possible way - but I'll  _miss_  all that we used to do together. I'll miss you. I'd hoped we could keep doing our thing for a few more years." He looked up again. "I mean, dating or not dating, I love you, and I love being around you."

"I'd like to keep what we have going too," she told him honestly. She blinked back a teardrop of her own. Just one. Gary was right. When she tried, she actually could pull up some good memories of Dimmsdale, and she  _would_  miss him a ton when she moved away.

He was shaking, shuddering, the same way he did when forced into a space much smaller than he was willing to handle that day. "I love you," he blurted. "Um, I guess maybe I don't say that enough, because I didn't want you to take it the wrong way, but, um… Aw, geez, Betty." He clamped one hand against his face, spurting laughs and tears. "You're just so nice for no reason? And just, uh, really, really great, and you were wonderful to live with while it lasted, you know? It's just going to be super, super, super-duper hard to decide if I want a new roommate, or if I need some time to be alone!"

"Maybe you and Talon can live together?" she offered, without a lot of hope. Gary shook his head. A lot. The tassel on his cap whipped back and forth, slapping at his cheek.

 _"No._  Talon doesn't get me like you do. You were perfect for me. And I'm so excited for you- don't get me wrong. I'm just really excited and really concerned at the same time. It's just…" Another nervous giggle.  _"Errrrgh._  Oh, this sounds super dumb. I  _hate_  trying to explain this. But, um, you just always make me feel like I'm safe, right? And I, uh, loved coming home to that? No worries, no stress, just pure understanding. You liked me just because I'm a  _nice person."_

"As opposed to what?" Betty asked, faintly amused. For all his despair and obvious confusion, it was a relief to hear him try and deny any romantic feelings for her.

His eyes shut. Something bobbed inside his throat. "As opposed to a boyfriend. Betty,  _that's_  why I can't have a girlfriend. You know that, right? Because- because-" Hands to face, each gasp jumping. "What if when you're gone, no one ever wants me to be their friend again? What if for the rest of my life, girls look at me and- and-" Fingers clenching _, crushing_. "What if they look at me, and I'm not worth it?"

"What?" Betty crinkled her forehead, starting to stand. This was new. Automatically, she reached for a tissue from their box and handed it to him. Gary took it weakly. "Why wouldn't you be 'worth it'? You're the sweetest boy in town. You're sweet, you're a hard worker, you're tall, you're completely adorkable. I mean, just give it a couple years or maybe even months of me not hanging around, and you'll have girls falling all over you, I guarantee it."

He half-screamed a muffled scream into his hand. "But that means kissing, and I  _hate_  kisses! I don't want a girlfriend who kisses me." Blurring words- "Kisses are super duper uncomfortable for me, and I just get so nervous. Lizzie- Lizzie, I've never told this to anyone ever before in my entire life, because I just  _know_  everyone's going to tell me I'm only like this because of my st-stupid extra chromosome, and maybe that will turn out to be the reason and maybe it won't, but I just  _don't want a girlfriend who thinks having the sexy stuff is worth more to her than I'm worth just as an actual human person with feelings!"_

He was yelling. And when he realized he was yelling, his voice tanked.

"Betty, I can be second place to playing sports or a fun hobby or a job, but I can't be second place to kisses. Kisses are like presents, and they have to be given selflessly, okay? Not… not stolen to get something in return."

Huh?

Gary fell back, throwing his head and covering his mouth, like he'd shouted something profane in the middle of a church meeting. His chair rolled slightly closer to the wall, and away from their shared desk.

 _"We've_  kissed," Betty said, quietly. Her cheeks began to heat. Her legs began to jitter. Her mind began to swirl. She tightened her grip on her knee. "I mean, it was years ago, but… You didn't like it?"

He jolted up again, wide-eyed. "Betty, I didn't mean- I shouldn't have brought it up. Please, I'm not trying to come between you and Pete. That's not what I was trying to say. It's just… Whenever you and I kissed, it was, uh, because- because we had to, you know? H.P. was always trying to push us together because he basically wanted grandkids one day, I guess maybe, but after we found out my condition means I can't have any…"

"There were so many kisses," she recalled, weakly. Her toes scrunched. "You didn't like any of them? You faked all that? To try and make me happy? I thought you enjoyed them, but really, you were just grossed out, every time?"

His eyes brimmed over with tears. "You don't remember. Do you?"

Betty bit her lip, briefly. "Just… Okay. Okay. I won't pry into your personal life and stuff like that. But could you answer just one thing for me, please?" She took a deep, deep breath. Her shoulders lifted. "What about the night we kissed in Kansas City, when we were sitting on the hood of my truck, watching the sunset and drinking the carbonated water we confiscated from Rosencrantz? That was a good one. Right? I thought… I mean, not anymore, but…"

"Oh, we had to," he said quickly, holding his knee to his chest again. But he would not look at her. His fingers itched behind his ear. "That one, um… Yeah, no, uh… Th-that one doesn't count either."

"It doesn't?" She pictured his startled face when she'd grabbed his hands, pulling him forward the one and only time she'd ever initiated it. The one and only time he'd ever agreed to shake Sanderson off their tail. The one and only kiss that hadn't been filed in some weird official research report when they were done. The one and only time she'd ever really felt like he  _wanted_  her.

"Mr. Sanderson always said we didn't have a choice. It was all part of the plan, right? Betty, I  _swear_ , I wasn't trying to lead you on. It didn't mean anything to me. You  _know_  this, remember? Please. You're my best friend, and I never, ever would have kissed you if I didn't have to. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

The burning in her face grew brighter.  _Ouch_. I mean, sure, she'd always stared in mirrors as she brushed her hair and sighed a bit at how plain her face looked even after she finished applying her makeup, but she had no idea she was  _that_  unattractive. And to  _Gary,_  of all people. The sweetest boy in town, and her best friend since they were kids.

But looking back on it, was it any surprise that her feelings meant nothing to him? I mean, look at who his mother was. Betty could still pull up the exact way Elaine Cabrera's searing eyes had scanned her when she'd first introduced herself as Gary's friend.

He didn't even like the sunset kiss. She'd worked  _hard_  to pull that one off. It had almost rained that day. But it didn't.

Self-consciously, Betty began to scratch her wrist beneath the desk, where he couldn't see. Distracting her mind by redirecting its attention to something physical like that always helped her hold back tears. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Well-" Gary's cheeks reddened, too. "I thought  _neither_  of us was supposed to keep secrets. Why didn't you ever tell me all this stuff about you and Pete moving to Brightburg before now?"

"I don't know! It was just so awkward, or I didn't want to make it awkward…" Betty sighed her frustrations away, pinching the top of her nose. She massaged her eyelids, and they made clicking sounds like polished stones. Her hand dropped back to the desk. "I don't know. I guess we grew up a bit, and kind of grew apart this year without even realizing. I'm sorry, Gary. You've been great, and we can always still be best friends. Always. We just can't hang out together like we used to. Boys and girls just can't  _do_  that when they're nineteen if they aren't dating, you know?"

He said nothing. Betty lifted her hand, then realized she was about to reach out and touch his knuckles, the way she used to do before she and Pete had ended up together. She pulled back.

"I'm sorry, Gary. You're  _still_  my best friend. But we can't be goofy teenagers babysitting kids in the Learnatorium forever. It's not like you can just freeze time. One day I'm going to grow up. I'll move out. I might even get married."

"To a polar bear." Finally, he let go of his knee and allowed his foot to drop to the ground. He opened the highest drawer of his desk and dropped the  _Aladdin_  movies in. He shut it more roughly than usual.

"To a sweet-hearted boy in a polar bear suit. I mean…" Betty grasped one of her pigtails. "Well, maybe? I don't know."

Instantly he was on his feet. His hands went up before his brain seemed to process what he was doing. They squeezed the air. "But that's crazy! If you don't know  _absolutely for sure_ that you want to live with Pete forever, how could you want to leave me, your best friend you know and trust, and the apartment where you've lived all your life, and move with him to a strange place with strange job opportunities and strange bills to pay and- and a strange new WiFi password? How could you do this to me if you aren't _absolutely sure?"_

Betty was sitting, her hands in her hair. Gary was standing, one arm around his stomach now. The other hand was pressed into his eye socket. The air sparked.

"It kind of  _hurts,"_  he said, and it kind of did.

Betty dropped her hands to her lap, trying too hard not to cry. She'd known it would break him, because he was eighteen years old, and somehow he  _still_  couldn't understand that romance mattered more than friendship. Even friendship with a lifelong best friend.

"Yes. I- I realize that. I'm so sorry, Gary. I wish it didn't have to be like this, but it does. I'm a girl. You're a boy. Boys and girls just don't live together if they're nothing more than friends, you know? We live together, and because of that, people think things about us-"

 _"I_ don't think of us like that." Sharp, accusing. "That should matter."

"No, no, of  _course_  it matters. Gary, I didn't mean to- to put words in your mouth or accuse you of- er, inappropriate thoughts, or anything. I just- I… I mean, with my anxiety, I can't handle that anymore, all the things people say about us? You understand. I'm actually happy. I just need a new start someplace else, where people will see me differently."

"Living with a different boy in a different apartment. Which is different."

Pause.

"Yes. Working with you at the Learnatorium was really fun while it lasted, but I have dreams for my future, and I'll never get to achieve them if I'm always joined to you at the hip. I want to finish college, I want to be a mom- I can't just drop out of school and run a community center the way you want to, you know?" He was silent, and she sighed and brushed her hair behind her ear. "I love you. You'll always be my best friend. Pete's just…"

"Different," he whispered, aching.

"Well, yeah. Gary…" Her voice softened. "Even if we hadn't ever kissed, you didn't really think we could live together our whole lives without dating, did you?"

He looked at the floor like it was an old memory and shook his head. "No. You like Pete. It's fine. Although tenancy by the entirety would have been nice."

"I… I  _chose_ this." She stared into his face, willing him to understand as her shoulders lifted higher. "I'm moving in with Pete because I  _want_  to. Not because Mr. Sanderson made us, or anything. This was going to happen eventually. I want to have a boyfriend and raise kids of my own someday. And when I do, you and I can't live together anymore."

"… I know." Gary lowered himself back to his chair. It was slightly too short for his desk. "I'm sorry, Lizzie. I'm not mad that you want kids. Goodness no. No, no, no. Kids are wonderful, and- and you should have them with someone you truly love in a romantic way." When he looked away, he bit his lower lip. "And we both know you and I can't have kids anyway, even if we did get married…"

Betty winced. She'd known about his Klinefelter syndrome since they were eight, and his infertility since seventeen, but neither of them spoke about it much. That was one subject she didn't have a clue how to approach. "Gary, don't. That's not why I'm dating Pete instead of you. Please don't think that! You don't  _really_  believe we aren't together just because I want kids, do you?"

He jolted, jerking up his head. "What- no! Of course not! You love Pete like  _that_ , and not me. Betty, I'm not clueless. I  _get_ it. You two have those kinds of feelings for each other. Of course you lovebirds can have kids when you get married. I've never even wanted kids of my own, especially this soon. I'm not ready for a romantic relationship, but if you are, then that's  _great._  I'm not mad! You get you a polar bear boy, Lizzie! As long as it's what you want, I'll be fine. I promise. So, you go marry him and have all the little half-human, half-polar bear cubs you want! But me? Oh, no, I'm not the father type. I have the daycare. That's really enough."

"Well, that's good. Thanks, Gary."

He hesitated, eyes dimming, then played his final card. "I mean, I'm more like a fun uncle than a daddy anyway."

"… Yeah. I'd like that. Really, let's make it happen. And I hope Pete and I can visit you whenever we have the chance." She phrased it carefully, emphasizing the words  _visit you_  to keep them something separate from  _visit us._

"It'll be great," he said, sprinkling cheerfulness across his voice again. "Don't be afraid to include me in everything. I want your Christmas cards. I want the birthday party invitations. I want to be your emergency contact. We're family."

"Oh, geez." She felt her cheeks warm. "You want to be my emergency contact? Ah. Um. Isn't that a little… intimate?"

"You can't let Pete be your emergency contact," he argued. "Those bear paws have absolutely, positively no dexterity whatsoever."

Betty couldn't help but snort and shake her head with a soft laugh. Although, come to think of it… Who  _was_  her emergency contact on file? Surely not Sanderson. Not after he'd left. Right?

Gary's thumb and forefinger pressed together, poised to snap. They broke apart without doing so. His shoulders lifted as he inhaled, very slowly. "Ah, geez! Well, well well. I'm super sorry, Betty! I didn't mean to get snappy. I knew this day was coming, and I thought I was ready for it. I guess I just didn't realize it would be so soon."

She nibbled on her lower lip. "I guess it does seem a little sudden from your perspective, doesn't it? I've been planning this for a little while now, and maybe I didn't realize that, either. I'm sorry too. It wasn't meant to be a secret, and I should have let you know my plans earlier, but I just never knew how to bring it up."

"I get it." Gary leaned forward, chin cupped in his hands. "And I'll miss you. It'll be fine! It'll be great! A whole new world! I'll call you and the lucky man sometimes. But I'll be  _totally_  respectful of your boundaries and your personal life. Ooh, this will be a fun new adventure!" His smile started to press back, bright and white and shiny. "You can bring your kids down to the daycare for playdates, and we can hang out every weekend, and when Pete's available to watch the kids then I'll take you out for dinner and ice cream every Sunday-"

"Gary," she interrupted.

The smile froze. He took his hands away. "What?"

"Gary… Listen." Her own hands came together before her nose. Again. She couldn't believe she had to do this to him again, spell it out like this, make it hurt, but he  _wasn't getting it._ "I'm so, so sorry. You're my best friend in the world, and I love you for that. I'll always remember everything we've done together, and the great memories we've shared. You're sweet, you're caring, and if you ever get married, then you'll make an amazing partner for a wonderful person."

"Betty?"

"But we're way too close for two people who aren't dating. You can't just be  _calling_  me when we grow up, or taking me out to dinner."

"Uh." He tilted his head. "What? We've lived together since we were eight. Except for the kisses that don't count anyway, we're kind of like siblings? Siblings call each other sometimes, or go out to eat."

"Not obsessively. Gary…" Betty blinked. Automatically, she closed her fingers around her pen. "I don't want to hurt you. Please don't make this harder than it is."

"Ah, so sorry! I didn't know I was. I'm just thinking." Gary scratched his head.  _Scritch. Scritch._ "Um… Okay. Why the change? You didn't used to talk about a future where we didn't hang out."

Betty stared down at the bills and dented candy balls on her desk again, forcing her eyes to stay open. And dry. After contemplating for a few seconds, she decided to ignore the comment. Giving any sort of mention that last spring, it really had seemed like they'd be together forever, would just be leading him on. That wasn't fair.

"Betty?" An unreadable note crept into Gary's voice. She tightened her grip on the pen and didn't look up. It was difficult enough to see his face in her mind's eye- his eyebrows pressed together, his lower lip curled in with his teeth sunk into the top. She didn't want to see him for real. She didn't need the reminder that she knew him too well. Glory, glory, she knew his body language  _so well_. She could imagine every wrinkle on his stupid sweater vest. The slight crook to his bow tie, which always tilted upward on the right side. He leaned further across her desk, his voice very quiet now. "We  _are_  going to get to see each other again when we grow up. Aren't we? You'll just be in Brightburg. Right? You said Brightburg. You and Pete aren't planning to slip away from there after a few months in the apartment, right? You're not going to leave there without telling me one day. Are you? This isn't… the end."

Betty's reply struggled in her throat. She began it, then ended it. Tried again, but that failed too. Her eyes closed. "Gary… Gary, listen."

"No," he breathed, slumping forward. His eyelids clenched, his fingers curled.

She knew every freckle on his face, every swish of his tassel, every tuft of ginger hair on his head and arms. She could see him, even with her eyes squeezed tighter than his. Her heart pumped in and out of her throat. "Gary, you're my best friend…"

"No, no, no…"

"You've been nicer to me than I deserve, and you took care of me when even Sanderson couldn't be bothered to. You've always helped me through my panic attacks… my angry moods… my school projects… my tough days at camp… Everything I've ever needed."

"No…"

"But Flappy's gone now. The Learnatorium is on the verge of going under."

He stared at her, lips parted, and Betty stared back and wished she had a way to comfort him. She knew him so well. But maybe not enough.

"I'm sorry, Gary. I don't really know where life will take Pete and I from here. We can see each other sometimes, but I don't want to get your hopes up too much about how much time we'll get to spend together now. I don't want to be tied to Dimmsdale anymore. I want to move on. Especially after we upset so many people this summer. I- I just need to get out of here. You understand. I need to start over. I want to be Elizabeth Lovell now. Not just 'Gary and Betty' said all in one breath, like we're just one person who's never apart. I need to build my own identity."

Gary dropped his gaze to his hands. The clock ticked again.  _So you're moving in with someone else, and maybe taking his last name someday soon, because that's definitely a sign of independence,_  echoed in the silence. "Wow," he murmured. "This is happening. You said words. I mean, I get it and I'll support the future you want to have no matter what it is, but I'm really going to miss you. Really, a lot, Betty."

"I'll miss you too."

His voice cracked without apology when he tried to say, "You know, it's actually really funny, isn't it? I mean, I remember back when we were fifteen, you said you didn't want kids?"

Not his kids.

Betty shook her head, shaking back her hair again. "Yeah, when I was  _fifteen_. People change, you know?"

"I… can't… relate." Gary splayed his fingers, shoulders rising near his cheeks. His voice shuddered, then caught itself and slowly strengthened. "Okay. Would it be okay if I asked one more question? It's about the plans you and Pete made for your futures."

"Sure. Go ahead."

Gary opened his mouth. No words came out. His eyes stared into Betty's, and she blinked and studied him in honest bewilderment. Knowing Gary, he could ask anything from whether they planned to share the same bedroom to where they planned to buy their groceries or get their homemade bookmarks laminated. What was he thinking about?

He closed his mouth again, and squeezed his eyes shut. "Never mind."

"No, no, go ahead. Seriously, ask me anything." Betty's heart fluttered against the insides of her lips, but she refused to leave her friend hanging and broken like this. He deserved this; they both needed this, this closure. If she had to chase him down and tackle him in order to get him to open up about his feelings, then so be it.

"No," he said. "Never mind."

"… Oh." She stared at him, with nothing to say. She didn't tackle him.

"Actually, Betty? Something else?"

Why wouldn't he look at her? His gaze was on his knuckles, his brow furrowed like a farm. "What?" she asked.

Gary swallowed with a stagger in his throat. "Have you… ever fallen out of love with someone after liking them for too long?"

"Well." Betty thought about it for a moment. "Sure. Loads of times. That one boy, Gregory. Cute camp kids. Cute basketball players on the high school team. Some of your biker friends. Chip Skylark."

_You._

She cleared her throat. "I mean, crushes wear off, you know?"

Then he did raise his head. "Why doesn't that happen when you fall in love for real?"

Betty paused.

The longer the pause went on, the more alarm spread across Gary's face.

"Well. See." She had to be very careful. "It… does. That's just what happens when you get to know someone, and the excitement of a new relationship finally dies away. I mean, attraction isn't supposed to last forever. It doesn't work like that. Like, Pete and I both expect to stop feeling attracted to each other someday, but we've talked about it, and right now we're planning to stay together for the long haul anyway, like best friends. That's just what you do with a boyfriend or a girlfriend, I guess. The difference between random passing crushes and a serious long-term partner is just that mutual commitment."

"I'm sorry," Gary blurted, apologizing for nothing, and Betty cringed for no reason at all. His palm raced to his cheek, pressing deeper than ever before. "I- I just want you to be sure. I mean, Pete will be good for you. You're a numbers person, he's a science guy. You like decorating indoors and he likes working outside with plants. It'll work out. This is great. He's great, and this will be so great for both of you, but it's still weird to imagine you marrying him. I didn't really think you would."

Betty put up her hands. "We're not getting married anytime soon. I didn't mean  _that_  kind of commitment. I mean, there's not really any point in getting married, is there? Marriage ceremonies are super duper stressful, expensive, and a pointless waste of money. I don't want anyone looking at me thinking I'm one of those typical reckless girls desperate to get a ring. It's not as though I have family I want to invite. I wouldn't even know who to pick for bridesmaids. And trying to cater to both my vegan diet and Pete's carnivorous one? Sure, a wedding might make you feel special for an afternoon, but pizza and a movie would do that for me too. And if I don't get married, I won't have to be in front of everybody spouting cliché lines I get fed either. I dunno. Pete and I've talked about it a lot lately. I just don't think marriage is a smart move right now."

Gary blinked. "You're  _not_  getting married? But I also thought you really, really wanted your own kids?"

"I do! Pete and I are just going to take a bit of time to settle in first, and-" She couldn't look at him anymore. Her gaze dropped, but the heat in her cheeks rose. "Well, we'll see where it goes from there. I don't know- Maybe we'll change our minds and get married first, but I just don't know." (They wouldn't- Pete was a planner almost to a fault, and they'd agreed to save money for world travel, since neither had ever bought into society's idea that they needed a fancy ceremonial dance and pretty colors or a special day each year to validate their feelings for each other). Betty tightened her fingers over the knuckles on her other hand. "His family is pretty understanding. And it's not like Sanderson cares. He'd probably be thrilled to see me managing my resources this well."

"Ah. Well…" Gary smiled, folding his arms. "Sure! That'll be fun. Kids are great. I mean, I still don't need any of my own, but you know I love kids. And you and Pete have so much more experience working with them than most parents, probably! You'll be a great mom and dad."

"Thanks." She smiled, too. "I hope so. It won't be for a few years still, but I promise, you'll be the first one to get a birth announcement. Even before Pete's mom. I'll make sure of it."

"I'd love that! I mean, if she's really okay with it. I don't want to overstep."

"No, no, it'll be perfect. And I'm really happy about where my life is going right now. I promise."

Gary nodded. They lapsed into pleasant, thoughtful quiet for a moment. After a few seconds, he stuck out his tongue. Not in a mean way. Just in a 'Gary being Gary' way. "Well… So, that. You know, as long as Pete takes the bear mask off when you kiss, I'm happy for you. I swear. It's your life, so you being happy is really all that matters."

_I guess._

Betty tilted her head. "You're really going to miss me, aren't you?" Even though they'd sort-of almost dated once and sort-of almost broken up? Even though she'd hurt him?

"Of course." Soft with caution. Gary glanced down. His hand went to his pocket, and he brought out his wallet. Plucking out his silver debit card, he stared at it as though seeking answers from his warbled reflection. His shoulders slumped. "I mean, we've lived together since we were eight. I knew it couldn't last forever, but that doesn't mean it's easy. At least I know Pete's… nice."

"Yeah. He is."

Grimacing, Gary returned the card to his wallet. "Yeah. I've seen the way he looks at you- with the mask on, at least. It'll be great. He's great for you. It's so great."

Pause. Betty fidgeted her hands, and looked down.

She didn't normally do this. At least not when they weren't out singing and dancing for the kids. Especially now that she was dating Pete. The office was a strange sliver between worlds where lines blurred and her hesitations crept into her throat.

She didn't like Gary like that, at least not anymore, and she didn't want to lead him on. Because _this right here_  was exactly the type of situation she'd been trying to avoid. But for one brief, cautious moment, Betty got up and walked around to his side of the desk, and held out her arms for a hug. Gary blinked up at her, and rose to his feet. His eyes were turning red again, his nose threatening to sniffle. He hesitated another few seconds, then threw his arms around her and pulled her in so fast, it would have knocked her graduation cap to the floor if she'd still been wearing it. Betty almost gave a muffled yelp, but managed to smother it in time. Gary needed a moment, and if she let him hear her, he'd make himself stop. For her.

"I'll miss you too," she said into his shoulder.

Gary leaned his forehead against hers, and held her as though he never wanted to let go. Betty made sure that when she hugged him back, she squeezed, because he'd been her best friend since forever, and she wasn't sure she'd ever get another chance to show him how much that meant to her, even if things had to be this way. Then hot tears fell against her eyelashes. Betty looked up in surprise, because she couldn't remember Gary ever crying since…

… did she remember ever seeing Gary cry? He was sensitive, but not  _that_  kind of sensitive. She frowned, struggling through her muddled memories. There was maybe one time, long ago…

"I'm sorry," he choked out, pressing his face into her hair. His fingers curled into the back of her shirt. "Please don't hate me. I didn't mean to be a soppy-sob. Really! I'm sorry I'm crying. I'm not doing this on p-purpose."

"It's fine, really."

"No, it's not. I shouldn't cry. It's wrong. It's emotion. Boys… don't cry…? I keep doing it. Oh, goodness. I- I'm not very good at being tough, am I?" He gulped. "S-stupid extra chromosome- I'm sorry- I know I sh-shouldn't cry on your head…"

"Gary," she murmured, placing her palm against his cheek. He squeezed his eyelids tighter, and hugged her closer. "Shh. It's okay. There's nothing wrong with crying when you're sad. It's okay."

He shook his head as though he didn't believe her. Betty wished she knew what to say to him. Gary had comforted her through dozens of anxiety attacks over the decade they'd grown up together, because that was just the type of thing he was good at. But emotions were difficult for her, and her fear of saying the wrong thing paralyzed her from saying anything at all. So she waited the uncomfortable moment out by patting him gingerly on the back as he fell dry and silent once again.

They pulled apart. Betty held him away by the shoulders, and forced herself to smile. "Hey, you said you'd be happy as long as Pete takes off the bear mask when I kiss him, right? Well, I know just how to relieve  _that_  worry! I promise, I actually did see him without it once, so I can assure you, he actually is human inside, and he doesn't actually wear the polar bear suit all day. And as soon as I can lure him out of it long enough to snap a picture, I'll prove it to you."

"Human? You don't know that!" And with an almost-laugh leaking into his voice, Gary flattened his hands against his cheeks. "Why, for all we know, we could have passed him on the street every day without saying 'Hi!'"

Betty chuckled, her arms relaxing, and it was good and familiar. She sat down again, and crossed one leg over the other. "Slow down, buddy. You know how friendly Pete is. Of course he'd say 'Hi' if he saw you out and about."

"Unless he was waiting for me to say 'Hi' first. Betty, I could have offended him! What have I done?" The dramatic wrist, fingers flared, pressed against his forehead. His tears were mostly gone now. "Oh, what have I done?"

"There's more to Pete than the fact that he wears a polar bear suit to work, Gary."

"Is there, though?"

The familiar bear paw knock sounded at the door again. Betty turned. "See, that's him now. Come in!"

This time when Pete opened the door, he wasn't also holding a squirming child. He pressed himself against one side of the doorway and lifted his knee to block someone behind him from squeezing through. Gary flung both arms in his direction.  _See?_

Okay, maybe the whole polar-bear-suit-in-July thing was a  _little_  weird.

Pete stretched his paw against the doorframe. "I'm so sorry to interrupt you fellas again, but Mr. Leadly-"

"Ugh!" Betty put back her head, her smile souring instantly. "I cannot even believe that guy. He is  _not_  an ideal friend. Tell him I'm in a meeting."

"Um." Pete glanced down at his leg. "He's here."

A short man dressed in yellow, topped with a splash of black hair like the graphite on a pencil, stepped out from behind him and smirked. Of course. Edward P. Leadly Jr., CEO of Pencil Nexus on the other side of the city, stood right there with a clipboard and checkbook in hand and a tape measure clipped to his belt. Behind him lingered a young girl almost as large as he was, wearing a striped blue sweater and an enormous white bow tie around her neck. She wore a sky blue backpack, and in her hands she cradled a bouquet of red roses with purple-black leaves.

"I brought a gift," Leadly said, pointing to his daughter.

Betty was back on her feet at once. "What are you doing here?" she seethed, emphasis on each word individually and yet all of the above. Despite the roasting late-summer heat,  _now_  she wished she was in her sweater vest. Or at least her undershirt. The tank top suddenly made her feel so exposed.

Ed Leadly had the nerve to grin. "Lovely day to spend with you too, Longhurst. Or was it Lenderman…?"

_"Lovell."_

He shrugged. "Lovely Lovell. You can't blame me for forgetting a name like that. Well, you see, as you neglected to return my calls, I took the liberty to visit you in person on my own dime. I have an offer here you won't want to refuse."

She knew Gary well enough to sense him wrinkling his nose behind her. Betty's heart thudded with secondhand embarrassment. Oh, perfect. Here she was, trying to argue in favor of selling the Learnatorium, and Leadly had to go make an idiot of himself by behaving like, well…  _this_. Her teeth clenched. "I'm in a meeting."

"And I'm sure your boyfriend over there will very much appreciate the way you make it up to him later."

"I'm not dating her," Gary choked out, at the same time Pete growled, "He isn't her boyfriend," and Betty confirmed it herself. She folded her arms.

"Thank you, Pete. I'll handle this. Please keep an eye on the kids and ensure they're following today's schedule. Gary and I will be there as soon as we can."

Pete nodded and left. Good. It would be just like Leadly to lure every employee available away from the children and then report the Learnatorium for negligence for failing to monitor them. To Leadly, Betty said, "Gary is my business partner, and is every inch the owner of the Learnatorium as I am. If you're hoping to buy from us, it would be in your best interest to recognize and respect that. I also hope you realize your behavior is highly unprofessional."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tiny smile break across Gary's face. His cringing posture grew a little straighter, a little more confident in her presence. Silently, Betty thanked him for that. Leadly was a slimeball on his best days, and an absolute snotball on his worst. He had caught her on the walk home just last week, when stomach cramps had sent her home and Gary had stayed behind an extra hour to finish cleaning and locking up. Leadly had badgered her the whole way to sell the Learnatorium, trying to barter with more and more creative types of currency.

If she had to face him again without Gary by her side, her anxious tongue would have betrayed her already. Separately, she knew, neither she nor Gary were particularly confident (or wholly competent) about the Learnatorium's inner workings and legal tentacles. But together, they could hold their ground well enough to get by. The thing was, they didn't actually have to  _be_  intimidating enough to scare Leadly off. They just had to fool him into thinking they were.

Leadly chuckled. "Well, you know what they say: When two business partners always agree, one of them is unnecessary. William Wrigley Jr."

That pierced her between the ribs. There was no way to answer a challenge like that. Not here. Not now. Creamy silence fell. Betty looked at Gary. He looked at her. They looked away at the same time.

"Betty's right," Gary said anyway, taking two steps forward. He folded his arms behind his back, fingers curling into their usual ready-to-snap position, all tense and shaking. "F-Flappy Bob left the Learnatorium to both of us. We're equal partners, and… you're only hurting yourself if you try to break us up."

Ed Leadly made no attempt to hide his rolling eyes. "Partners, eh? No denying that Robert had more faith in your pure little teenage hearts than I do. Office door's got a lock and everything."

Gary flinched. Betty was so taken aback by Leadly's underlying implication that all she could do was blink. But not having a comeback was almost worth it for the shocked look of horror that crossed the face of the man's daughter as she turned and gaped up at him. The look was gone a second later, the girl's eyes dropping to the floor, but the expression offered Betty just enough hope to stand her ground. Leadly's utter lack of disrespect for the gentle, tender nature of her and Gary's friendship ruffled thicker feathers than she'd realized she had.

"Those are some very nice flowers," she said, addressing the child instead of Leadly. Hadley, wasn't it? Betty was almost positive her name was Hadley Leadly. "Are those for us?"

Hadley glanced up again, and carefully held out the red and black bouquet for Betty to take. They were wrapped haphazardly in parchment paper, their stems dry and clumsily cut. "Blood blossoms. Special, from my mom's garden."

Blood blossoms. The name was familiar… though Betty couldn't seem to remember why. Something she'd heard in history class long ago, perhaps…

Leadly patted his daughter on the shoulder. "They're good luck. Used during the Creature Wars to keep the Ghosts away. I figured that one way or another, they'd be useful here."

"Because they're an aphrodisiac?" Gary asked in an uncharacteristically flat way.

"That's just what they want you to think," Leadly muttered, watching Betty set the flowers on her desk. "They weren't doing anything for me."

Hadley slapped a hand against her face and let it stay there. In the brief silence that settled on the room, Betty frowned at the dark flowers. Wait. She  _did_  remember where she knew them from. Dimmsdale's founding day parade. The younger children were always tasked to lay blood blossoms beside Alden Bitterroot's wishing well as they passed it by. Something about the proper burial for an evil witch, although local legend claimed Alden wasn't really dead.

What an… interesting choice of gift for Leadly to show up with now. They were certainly pretty, but the implication was beyond disturbing. Whether they were intended to convey a message of good luck or not. Betty shivered, giving her head a strong shake in the process. Turning back, she said, "Right. Well, I'm just as super-duper pumped about the upcoming plans Gary and I have for the Learnatorium as you are,  _buuut!_  I'm afraid we aren't interested in selling it all today."

Gary jerked his head in a nod. "Ooh, yes! Why, Betty and I must have talked for  _hours_ , but we haven't finished discussing our thoughts  _juuust_  yet. You'll need to be patient a little bit longer until we're ready to reveal our decision to the public, Mr. Leadly."

"Exactly right! Thanks for stopping by, sir."  _Don't come back._ "Good. Day."

"Thoughts?" Leadly sounded honestly incredulous. The light of challenge gleamed in his eyes, side by side with the thrill of the chase. All of this was just a game. He tugged on the open halves of his coat. "You want to  _think?_  You don't need to think about it! I'm here, I'm offering, this is the finest price you're guaranteed to get, so let's get the paperwork signed so I can move in by tonight. Preferably  _before_  you have the chance to hide what you've all been up to in here for all these years."

"Nothing's up," Gary protested, clasping his hands more tightly behind his back. His eyes flitted over to Betty, awaiting her support. She didn't have any.

With a soft chuckle, Leadly turned back to his daughter, who had already busied her hands with a stuffed bluebird she'd pulled out from somewhere. He placed his own hands on his knees. "Run down to the end of the hall, hon. I need you to act as a baseline for my compass so gingerbaby over here doesn't set it off."

"His name is Gary," Betty said, stepping around her desk.

Hadley didn't move. "You said we were just here to pick up Ruby so we can all get shaved ice together."

Her father gave her two pats on the headband that kept back her red-brown hair. "Of course, sweetie pie. Daddy just needs to take care of a little something extra first. Daddy likes to multitask when he goes out to save on gas."

"Dad," she hissed, staring at the carpet, "you're embarrassing me. Can I  _please_  just wait in the car?"

Leadly sighed. He reached into an inner pocket of his yellow coat and drew out a small bit of shiny black metal and plastic. This, he dropped into her palm. "Tell you what, angel. Why don't you go find your friend in the play area, and you come tell me if this little doodad starts beeping before you get there."

"What's that?" Betty snapped. Forcing herself forward suddenly became a breeze. She put out her hand. "All outside devices are subject to be searched and possibly confiscated upon entry."

Hadley hesitated, glancing at her father. Leadly stared at Betty in mock delight, already gripping the two sides of his coat again. "Oh, so  _now_  you want to talk to me. Well! Heh heh. I'm so glad you asked. I picked this up from a friend of mine." Taking the compass from Hadley's hand, he held it out to Betty. "It's a fascinating little device that points out the direction of magic. I can't imagine" - here he raised his voice - "that anyone in here would object to me having this?"

"He's trying to prove a point about the existence of fairy godparents to Crocker," Gary told Betty, calm and patient. He caught her eye, and rolled his own very slightly to emphasize the ridiculous silliness of their town's wacky old men.

Okay, sure. Whatever. That sounded reasonable, probably. "Let me see it," Betty said, still stretching out her hand for the compass. "If it does exactly what you say it does, then there shouldn't be a problem if I'm the one who holds it during our tour."

Hadley mouthed  _"Tour?"_ with a look of horror, as though her father hadn't warned her to expect a dull and boring visit. Well, maybe she'd like the trapeze. When Betty had left the previous night, Gary had been setting it up to perfection.

"Fair, fair." Leadly raised his hands, palms facing forward. He kept his fingers around the compass. "I just want you to know that I'm serious when I tell you I'll pay more for this sorry hill than whatever it is that Dimmadome is offering you. Like I told  _Gary_  just two weeks back, Ellie is a maniac who'd love to tear apart whatever fantastic creatures you're harboring in here, and Denzel can't afford this place what with that useless portal to Fairy World he's building-"

"Crocker's what?" Gary interrupted. Leadly broke off, puzzled, and Betty turned to to find Gary standing with his arms still folded. His hips were slightly pushed to one side, and a very peculiar tilt now captivated his head. The tassel on his cap fluttered like a leaf. He pressed his lips together. "You said that before too, at our apartment, just before you walked out. Denzel Crocker's built a portal to Fairy World."

"It's junk," Leadly said, a note of suspicion flickering around his voice. He tucked the compass back into his pocket. "Saw it myself two weeks ago, and it was a waste of good money to build, which is my point. Poor sap thinks it can take him straight to Fairy World's capital city once it's done. The man's gone hoony bonkers, if you ask me, and now he's clawing for cash. Couldn't even afford the last few kabobs he says he needs to even rev it up. Well, that's a teacher's salary for you."

Gary nodded very, very slowly. "So it gets you to Fairy World through scientific technology. Not magic. Ooh, now that's really, really interesting."

Leadly raised his hands, then let them drop. "Wouldn't trust  _my_  life with anything that lunatic's slapped together anyway. When I left him, he was babbling on and on about aliens. I'm telling you, he's a walnut."

"Hmm," Gary said, thoughtfully.

Despite her frustrations, Betty couldn't keep back a small smile. "Oh, Mr. Crocker lost his mind long before Gary and I were in his fifth grade class. Believe you me, even back then he was always going off about" - and here she put on her best twitching, yelping Crocker impression - _"FAIRY GODPARENTS!"_

Hadley raised her eyebrows. "That was pretty good."

"Thanks! You pick it up pretty quick, hanging around him."

"Never had him myself," Hadley said, cocking her head, "but I've heard a lot of stories. Being in middle school all the way across town is a blessing in disguise."

Gary turned his full attention back on Mr. Leadly then, and smiled the first genuine smile Betty had ever seen him give the man. "Ooh, would you mind stepping out for just one teensy-weensy moment, Mr. Leadly, sir? I was just about to grab lunch, and I'd just like to wrap up the last loose threads of the conversation Betty and I were having, if you would be so goshdarn kind. I'm sure she'll happily take you on your tour as soon as she has a moment to collect herself. In the meantime, perhaps you could find Pete and go about the check-out process of picking up Ruby?"

"Well, uh… Um…" Leadly blinked twice. He took the sides of his yellow coat in his hands, and Hadley tugged hopefully on his arm. Gary kept his smile bright.

"I'll bring back anything for you that you like, sir. Hadley too. My treat.  _Aaand_  when I return with all our yummy food, I'm sure we could have a very nice discussion about all our plans for the Learnatorium's future… and exactly what price I for one would be willing to let it go for."

Betty threw Gary a sideways glance, but she didn't protest. Strangely, he didn't sound upset about the idea. Honest cheer danced around his words.

"Heh." Leadly tugged his coat once, then allowed his hand to drop back and slip into Hadley's. "Well, I knew you'd come around eventually, Cavatina. I always get what I want."

"Cabrera," Betty corrected. "It's Gary Cabrera."

"Oh, no harm done," Gary said, placing his arm behind Leadly's shoulders. He walked the short man the equally short distance to the office door, never losing his lightness for a second. Oh. Betty hadn't realized just how badly she  _missed_  that fluttery cheer of his.  _That_  was the Gary she remembered from the previous spring, delightful and patient and as charming as a prince. "Yes sir, just one moment, please, and we'll be with you shortly!"

Leadly let out a satisfied grunt, and didn't protest when Gary shut the door behind him. Gary chuckled, and whisper-sang the words,  _"In my world of pink, not gray."_

"Clever distraction," Betty observed, folding her arms behind her back, "but I don't think you've bought us much time."

When Gary turned around, he was still smiling, just like in the good old days. "Oh, that's not a problem. I really don't need much of it. There's just something on my mind I really want to say, but not in front of him. Okay. Betty, did you mean it when you said you were happier now than you were a year ago?"

"Of course!" The question itself was puzzling, and so was the act of him asking her if she was being honest with him. "Last year I was riddled with anxiety every passing day, and crying myself to sleep through most of it. But now Pete and I are hoping to leave Dimmsdale behind for good, and I'm about to start a brand new life with a soft, sweet boyfriend I truly love, and who loves me too. I'm happier now than I remember ever being in my life, and I wouldn't change that for anything."

His smile faltered. A lot. He looked away. But then, glancing at her again, he pushed it back into place. "Well, um. Ooh. Oh geez, that makes this awkward. Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure? Because I'm trying to help."

 _Trying too hard,_  she thought affectionately, watching the desperation burst like fireworks deep within his eyes. Poor, silly boy, always wishing he could be her knight in fluffy pink armor. She couldn't help the playful note that slipped into her voice as she eyeballed her best friend and asked, "What exactly are you thinking about?"

"Oh." He rolled his eyes and hummed a few distressed bars of a song she didn't recognize. "Nothing much. Just this: You know, I suddenly don't think selling the Learnatorium will be so bad after all."

Betty's eyebrows arched. "What?"

"If it means we don't have to deal with that sleazey weasel being a constant badger," Gary hurried to explain, placing one fist behind his hip. With his other hand, he swept the bouquet of blood blossoms off their desks and into the trash can.  _Thump._  He gave his wrist a shake, wincing where he must have pricked it on a thorn. "You know, I hate, hate,  _hate_  giving up on my hopes and dreams for a Dimmsdale Community Center, but I'm afraid we're just all going to have to deal with it. Who knows? Maybe Leadly will still allow me to work here, if I make him think I'm useful!"

Betty shook her head, pressing her fingertips against his desk. "Gary, a moment ago you were absolutely opposed to this."

"Ooh, persuasive, isn't he?"

"I don't know… I mean, of course I  _want_  to sell, but… Are you sure this is what you want? Don't let him bully you into it. We can wait… Maybe we  _should_  wait."

"Think about it," he offered, bracing his hands on either side of the last moon core candies. He leaned forward, smiling, smiling,  _smiling_  the way she hadn't seen him smile in weeks. Pure, blissful smile. Then he whipped out his shiny silver debit card with the strange dotted  _P_  logo on it, and tossed it in the air. "If you think you can handle being in the same room as that deep creep for a little while longer, you have my  _full_  permission to talk to him about money and plans. I'll pop out to Extreme Veggiedanger and pick up lunch. You can let me know how you feel as soon as I get back, okay?"

Betty found herself wavering again. "I don't want to be pushed… Dimmadome's been more respectful, less… forward… I want this to be  _our_  decision. Together."

"Ah." Gary shrugged. He straightened up again, and popped one last moon core into his mouth. Behind the hand that held his debit card, he said, "Think about it. We'll talk when I get back, okay? You know, from lunch. I'm just trying to help you be as happy as you can. You know that, right?"

The big softie. Betty folded her arms. "Pete and I won't leave for Brightburg until I know you've found some new work," she said, firmly. Everyone would have to agree with that, like it or not. Gary was her best friend, and that's just how it was. She lifted her chin. "I want to be sure you're spending time pursuing goals that will truly make you happy, too."

Gary laughed. He laughed, and laughed. It was the beautiful laugh of a winged dream taking flight. Leaning forward, he squeezed himself in a hug. His fingers clenched the debit card until they turned pink. "Ha! You know what's super-duper funny about all this, Lizzie? Suddenly, I don't think that will be a problem at all!"


End file.
